


Cold Night - Ian & Mickey

by floralsuitian



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22718179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralsuitian/pseuds/floralsuitian
Summary: *Just one huge Drabble of Ian & Mickey being hopelessly in love with one another*
Relationships: Domestic Husbands - Relationship, Gallavich - Relationship, Newlyweds - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 151





	Cold Night - Ian & Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines' Day, y'all!! This isn't necessarily a Valentine fic, but I finished it a few days ago, and thought I should upload it for the purpose of today hehe this doesn't really have a plot, but I highly recommend you listen to the song that I based this fic off of :) it's one of my favorites!! Enjoy reading!!

**_“I knew the moment I met you, I could never lose you, I knew the moment I met you…”_ **

**_~Cold Night, You Me At Six~_ **

  
  


Ian never imagined in a thousand years, he would be getting married, let alone to the only person he truly cared about enough to go through with the act. Although there had been a few rough patches along the way (as most of their relationship had consisted of in the past), Ian had found a middle ground with Mickey. Had found a place where they felt comfortable enough sharing their thoughts and feelings with one another, had found a place where they could trust each other, could love each other, could be happy with one another. Happy. It was that word in particular in which Ian found himself hearing (and saying) a lot to others who asked him about Mickey.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Happy”.

“Oh, Mickey Milkovich. Are you happy?” “I am, yeah”.

“Does he make you happy?” “He does, very much”.

Ian always knew Mickey would be his husband one day; he imagined it all those years ago, right before his illness took a toll on them both. Mickey wanted him then, even when he wasn’t all there, when he was coming home after long nights of dancing and stripping and sleeping with men he didn’t give a single shit about. Ian was broken; he still felt like it at times. Mickey, too. Mickey had put him back together every single time; Ian, the same. And Ian knew. He’s been in love with him since the moment Mickey kissed him for the first time, in that van when they were just kids. He’s always known it was Mickey. 

Ian finishes washing up in the bathroom of the small apartment they purchased not too long ago (Lip pitched in some of his savings money as a “last minute wedding present”), drying his face on the towel and slipping his wedding band back onto his left hand. He ran his thumb over it, watching the way it shimmered under the dim bathroom light. He smiled, thinking back to last week when he and Mickey had said “I do” and promised to love one another forever. He probably would be lying if he said that wasn’t the best day of his life.

He finishes up in the bathroom, shutting off the light, and making his way to their shared bedroom. On his way there, he noticed how cold the apartment was, stops to check the thermostat, turning it up a few notches, before fully making his way to the bedroom. Mickey was folding a few things and putting them in the dresser when Ian entered the room; he turns to him and smiles gently. 

“You’re actually folding your clothes?”, Ian jokes, pulling his shirt over his head and setting it on top of the dresser. Mickey glares at him, but softens it next with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Yes, asshole. I’m actually folding my clothes”. 

Ian chuckles, laying down on the bed and watching as Mickey folds the last shirt. He’s staring and he knows it, but he doesn’t care. Mickey doesn’t even seem to notice he is until he looks up from the dresser, adjusting his wedding ring and quickly smiling at Ian.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” Mickey shuts the drawers, comes over to Ian’s side of the bed, climbs over him to sit atop his clothed thighs. Ian laughs gently, takes Mickey’s left hand in his and intertwines them. 

“You. My husband”, he says softly. Mickey sucks in a small breath, the words still foreign to both of them. 

“Mmm. Husband. Likin’ the sound of that”, Mickey smiles again, leans down to press his forehead to Ian’s. Their hands are still intertwined, but Ian lets go to wrap his arms around Mickey’s back. Mickey’s surprised by the action, but keeps his legs on either side of Ian’s hips, as Ian holds him close.

“I love you so fucking much”, Ian breathes into Mickey’s ear. “So fucking much”.

Mickey pulls back, one of his hands coming to rest on Ian’s cheek, his thumb gliding over the soft skin. He smiles at Ian for the third time in the last ten minutes, keeps his eyes on him as he repeats the words to him.

“I fucking love you. Can’t believe we get to do this together”.

“Kind of always knew it would happen one day”, Ian admits softly. Mickey chuckles, keeps running his thumb down Ian’s cheek.

“What if it hadn’t...you know, with me?”

Ian glances up at Mickey, his eyes suddenly very far away and full of worry. He sits them up on the bed, keeping Mickey on top of him and cupping his face in his hands.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to do with this, Mick. I’ve always wanted this with you. No one else”.

Mickey meets Ian’s eyes again, his fingers ghosting over Ian’s chest as they stare at each other for some time, not saying a word or making a sound.

“You’re the love of my life, Mickey Milkovich”, Ian whispers, pulling Mickey forward to place a gentle kiss to his lips. Mickey hums against his mouth, cupping the side of Ian’s face, sighing into the kiss, holding him oh, so close as if he’ll try to escape. Ian’s been done running from Mickey for a long time now; he wasn’t going anywhere. Not ever again. He was all Mickey’s, every single bit of him. All of him belonged to Mickey, now and forever. 

“Love you so much”, Mickey whispers against Ian’s mouth, a breathy chuckle sounding between their mouths from Ian. 

“I love you”, Ian smiles against Mickey’s lips, reaching his hands down to the hem of Mickey’s shirt and lifting it over his head, tossing it to the floor somewhere behind them. Mickey quickly places his lips to Ian’s again, their tongues brushing gently and a soft moan falls from Ian’s lips. 

“Want you so bad”, Ian whispers, rolling them over until Mickey’s back gently meets the mattress. Mickey nods at Ian’s words, keeps their lips connected, threads his fingers in Ian’s hair. Ian settles his hips between Mickey’s legs, their clothed centers rubbing against each other and causing Mickey to raise his hips to gently meet Ian’s. A low hum falls from Ian’s lips as he does; Mickey smiles slyly at the gesture and suddenly rolls them back over so Ian is now flat on his back again. He’s surprised by the action, but doesn’t say anything; just settles his hands on Mickey’s hips. The metal of his ring is slightly cold against Mickey’s warm skin, and Mickey smiles at the feeling of it.

“You gonna take your clothes off?”, Ian asks, chuckling softly when Mickey takes his left hand in his right and intertwines them, just as Ian did earlier. 

“Relax, hub. Lemme look at you some more first”, Mickey tsks, making Ian casually roll his eyes. The nickname makes Ian’s heart race, and his stomach flutters, but he likes the way it sounds rolling off of Mickey’s tongue.  _ “Hub”.  _

Ian also takes his time looking at Mickey, admiring the scars and the creases in his skin, the toned structure of his torso, the way Ian can see his V-line peeking out from the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You’re so beautiful”, Ian whispers, his free hand stroking Mickey’s cheek gently. Mickey smiles, leans his face into his hand a little, Ian’s thumb gliding over his cheekbone slowly.

“I love you”, Mickey replies, tugging on the waistband of Ian’s sweatpants to make him sit up again. Ian smiles this time, their bare torsos flush against one another, and Mickey finally makes a move to discard both of their clothing. He makes his way down Ian’s body, tugging gently on his sweatpants some more. Ian aids him by lifting his hips from the mattress and gently kicking them to the floor. Mickey’s standing at the foot of the bed now as Ian scoots closer, sliding his fingers into Mickey’s sweats and tugging them down his legs. 

“C’mere”, Ian whispers, tugging Mickey back to the bed as he steps out of his sweats. Mickey happily obliges, climbing over Ian’s hips again, and cupping his face, pulling him into a gentle kiss. Ian’s hands rest on Mickey’s hips, his thumbs stroking over the skin above his boxers. Mickey starts to grind slowly against Ian, their breathing becoming more ragged, filling the quiet space of their small room. Mickey continues rocking his hips against Ian’s, breathing in his shuddered breaths every time he moves over his clothed hips. Ian squeezes Mickey’s hips, slowly sliding his fingers past the waistband of his boxers, gently gliding his fingers over the indents of his hips. He loved Mickey’s hips. There was something about them that drove Ian wild.

“Wanna make love to you”, Mickey breathes, moving his lips along Ian’s cheek, his hips still moving slowly and Ian’s fingers still feathering over his skin. He nods at Mickey’s words, too engrossed in the feel of him to really comprehend anything he’s saying. 

“Wanna watch you come”, he breathes hotly, rolling his hips even slower, and Ian gasps softly, squeezing his hips again. 

“Fuck”, Ian moans, just as Mickey climbs off of him to quickly discard his boxers. Ian stares him up and down, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, watching as Mickey grabs the lube from their dresser. Ian stands from the bed to rid himself of his own boxers, then sits back down on the bed. Mickey comes back over to him, handing him the bottle and straddling his now naked body. Ian is staring, more lovingly then confusingly, but still staring, at his husband’s actions, and Mickey smiles at him. 

“Gonna sit here and fuckin’ stare at me all night, or are you gonna get to it?”

Ian smiles at him, opens the bottle of lube, slowly squeezes some onto his fingers, makes eye contact with Mickey as he reaches down between them to press his fingers to him. Out of habit, Mickey flexes his thighs, attempting to spread his legs a bit more while he’s straddling his frazzled husband. 

Mickey’s hands rest on Ian’s shoulders as he slowly fucks himself over Ian’s fingers. He presses his forehead to Ian’s, gripping his shoulders and breathing heavily. Ian’s other hand snakes around Mickey’s neck and he pulls him forward the last few inches to kiss him as he moves his fingers slightly faster. 

“Fuck, feels so good….so good”, Mickey moans against Ian’s mouth. Ian can feel how hard Mickey is against his stomach, and he removes his fingers from him to gently stroke his cock. Mickey’s mouth falls open against Ian’s, and he laughs breathlessly, then suddenly pushes Ian onto his back, grabbing the lube from the bed and squeezing some onto his fingers this time. 

“Fuck, you look so good like this”, Ian breathes, dragging his hands up Mickey’s thighs to his hips again, as Mickey slicks up Ian’s cock. He groans at the feeling of his hands on him, stares up at him as Mickey tosses the bottle to the side again, then begins to fit himself over Ian’s hips.

“So fucking good”, Ian groans, as Mickey begins to seat himself over Ian. Mickey’s mouth falls open the moment he feels the familiar stretch, and Ian’s head rolls back against the mattress and grips Mickey’s hips as he settles all the way against him. 

“Ahhh,  _ fuck”,  _ Mickey breathes, as he begins to move his hips. Ian moans as Mickey rolls his hips over him, rolls his head forward to look up at his husband. Mickey’s hands are splayed across Ian’s chest, Ian’s fingers are digging into Mickey’s hips still, feeling the muscles underneath his skin moving as he makes love to him, and  _ fuck,  _ he feels so good. Looks so good. Ian feels lightheaded, overwhelmed, completely consumed by this man above him. He’s fucking obsessed with him.

Mickey suddenly stops moving, readjusts himself over Ian’s hips, then breathes out a “C’mere” to Ian, gesturing for him to sit up. He sits up so quickly, Mickey almost slips off of him, but Ian wraps his arm around his waist so he can’t go anywhere. Mickey lets out a shuddered breath as Ian pulls him closer, eager to feel all of him. Mickey continues to move slowly over Ian’s hips, his legs becoming tired, but he has no intention of stopping right now. Their bare torsos meet, and Ian pulls Mickey down by the nape of his neck to kiss him slowly. Ian moans against his mouth, raises his hips up slowly to hit that spot inside of Mickey that he loves. He knows he’s found it when Mickey gasps and he watches with hooded eyes as Mickey’s own eyes flutter closed. 

“F-fuck, do that again”, he breathes, wrapping an arm around Ian’s shoulders to hold him close. Ian laughs breathlessly, does that same action with his hips again, and Mickey moans softly, but audibly. Ian tucks his face against Mickey’s cheek, breathes into his ear things that he likes to hear to get them both there faster: “I love you, I love you so much”, “You feel so good”, “Come for me, Mick”.

One hand on Mickey’s hip, the other cupping his neck, Ian pulls him close again, kisses him slowly again, their tongues brushing gently, and Mickey speaks for the first time in about ten minutes.

“I…. _ fuck,  _ I love you….I love you so fucking much”, he breathes, tears beginning to brim his eyes. He can’t believe he’s about to start crying like a little bitch while making love to his husband, but goddamn it if he isn’t allowed to.

“I love you, I love you always”, Ian breathes against his cheek, and Mickey’s hips begin to stutter above Ian’s. He keeps rocking against him, his cock brushing Ian’s stomach and making him moan gently.

“Fuck, almost….almost”, he moans, and Ian kisses him again, reaching down to press his fingers against him to get him there faster. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer, Mick”, Ian groans, and Mickey moves slightly faster against him. Ian’s eyes flutter closed as he nears his end, and suddenly his hips are stilling underneath Mickey’s, he’s pressing his open mouth to his lover’s, and suddenly, Mickey’s hips still, his legs shaking gently, and they’re both coming together moments later, both of them breathing heavily against one another’s lips, and their hands squeezing at each other’s skin as they come down from their highs.

Ian falls back against the mattress, taking Mickey with him, and Mickey slowly slides off of him, keeping one leg draped over Ian’s and laying next to him. He drags his left hand over the skin of Ian’s chest, listening to the sounds of his heartbeat slowing to a steady rhythm, Ian’s fingers carding through Mickey’s damp hair. 

"You okay?”, Ian asks softly; Mickey was usually quiet after sex, not in a bad way. Mostly just because he wanted to look at and touch Ian’s skin some more, as if he was trying to memorize it. Ian still, always asked him if he was okay.

“Yeah….m’good”, Mickey replies, feathering his fingers over Ian’s army tattoo on his rib cage. He doesn’t say anything else, just lays against Ian’s chest, his toes running up and down Ian’s leg and his fingers trailing against his skin still.

“I love you”, Ian whispers, his left hand carding through Mickey’s hair gently. Mickey closes his eyes, hums at the feeling of Ian’s fingers, lifts his head to rest his chin on Ian’s chest. 

“Love you too”, he whispers back, scooting up Ian’s body to kiss him gently. Ian sighs against his lips, cradling his head in his hands as he kisses him softly. Mickey pulls back, suddenly chuckling softly against Ian’s cheek. Ian returns it, confusedly.

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

“You know I’m married”, he says, not missing a beat. Ian snorts, realizing he’s fucking with him, and rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah? What’s he like?”, Ian’s voice is soft as he stares at the beautiful man laying on top of him.

“Ya know. He’s pretty okay. Got a nice smile, nice eyes, nice cock”, Mickey keeps going, and Ian laughs again.

“Must be a real keeper”.

“Oh, abso-fucking-lutely”.

Ian laughs again, stroking his thumb over Mickey’s cheek, down to his chin, and they keep looking at one another like the other might disappear before their very eyes. 

“He’s also got the most beautiful heart, he’s not afraid to fucking say how he feels, he loves with his whole soul, he’s strong as hell….he’s beautiful”.

Ian lets out a shaky breath as Mickey says the last few words, watching the smile spread across his face, Mickey’s hand coming up to thread through Ian’s hair gently.

“And I’m….so fucking in love with him”.

Ian feels like his whole world has been pieced together at this point. He cups Mickey’s face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones, tears brimming his eyes, as he smiles at his fucking husband. Mickey.  _ His  _ Mickey. His  _ husband.  _

“What would he say if he found out you were here with me?”, Ian asks jokingly.

“Ya know, you’re hot. So I think he’d be perfectly okay with it”, Mickey returns the humor, and Ian pulls him forward into a breathless kiss. Mickey laughs against his lips, stroking his thumb over Ian’s jaw as Ian holds his face in his hands.

“You’re a fucking asshole”, Ian chuckles, still crying a little bit. Mickey returns it, wiping a tear from Ian’s cheek.

“Love you, you dick”.

Ian never imagined in a thousand years, he would be getting married. But fuck, if he wasn’t completely and utterly happy with this man. The only man he ever needed. The only man he ever loved. He was okay with that. Fuck, he was okay with everything as long as it involved Mickey.

Now he had that. His Mickey. The love of his life. Curled next to him as they fell asleep, legs tangled, Ian looking at his and Mickey’s wedding bands in the dimly lit room. Smiling gently as he kissed Mickey’s forehead, holding him ever so close. And he promised him again, as he did a week ago, that he would love him forever, as he drifted into a soundless sleep. 


End file.
